Valentine's Day
by Cerulea
Summary: This is the flufftastic sequel to my Christmas Eve story.  It's a fluff sandwich with a crunchy angst middle.  But of course, it's a romance most of all.
1. Chapter 1

_So this story was a request and frankly, I'm almost out of time. So it might not flow ideally... But it's done! here ya go!_

_This is the sequel to Christmas Eve, so it'll be a little abrupt if you haven't read that one. Which you probably should (it's not too long) but if you don't feel like it here's the low-down - Cas and Dean realized they were in love on Christmas Eve (thanks to some cleverly positioned mistletoe) and had a romantic Christmas and New Years. So it's an est. relationship._

_Valentine's is on a Tuesday this year... but we can just pretend for the sake of Cas and Dean that it's a Thursday._

* * *

><p>Valentine's Day.<p>

Morning.

Castiel only had the one frame of reference for Valentine's day - when they had hunted Cupid and ultimately Famine. He remembered being overcome with Jimmy's lust for raw meat, he remembered being violently sick after, he remembered Sam going mental for Demon blood and most of all he remembered Dean looking haunted and hollow at the Horseman's claims that his soul was empty of desire.

Overall, not a great Valentine's.

But he had learned some about the human traditions of the holiday. Except what day on the calendar it marked. Human days seemed so many to him then, that they were needless in their numeration - like naming grains of sand on the beach, utterly futile. But that was then.

Now he was human and the days of the week were a staple of his working knowledge of society.

But he still hadn't grasped all of the important dates, the memorization of such a thing seeming unnecessary until now. So when Valentine's Day rolled around this year, he'd been entirely ignorant of the date until Sam had teased his brother about whether he had Valentine's Day plans.

Dean's neck flushed a shamelessly livid shade of red, which Sam promptly smirked at.

"Is that soon?" Cas asked curiously.

Sam's smirk broadened at his brother's discomfort, his smile truly mischievous. Dean sent him a glare that would have turned running water cold. It was a warning. But Sam didn't scare that easy. He turned to Castiel, "Yep. This coming week. On Thursday."

Cas gave a simple _Hm_ and continued what he was doing, Dean sent Sam a death-stare and Sam merely raised his eyebrows, wiggling them at Dean obnoxiously.

Dean was afraid he might break his teeth with the force his clenched jaw. He'd forgotten all about Valentine's Day... back when he was a strapping, eager bachelor it had been the best day of the year. But only because he was guaranteed to have sex with little to no effort put forward on a rouse. And he didn't have to do any of the romance that went along with the holiday, because he was a one night stand king.

But now... now he was a strapping, hesitant, 'in a serious relationship' kind of guy. And he'd neglected to consider that Valentine's Day would mean a whole new list of expectations this year. And Dean was immediately panicked.

Christmas? sure. Break out the egg nog.

New Year's? definitely. Break out whatever liquor you got.

Valentine's Day?

Champagne? and chocolate covered strawberries?

Yeah... probably not.

Dean wasn't really a flowers and candy in heart-shaped boxes kind of guy. He didn't really know how to be romantic in that sappy, _Gary Marshall should make a movie about this_ kind of way. And he didn't want Cas to have expectations now that he was on the human bandwagon.

What Dean should have realized, was that for the most part, Castiel didn't have any expectations at all. Cas didn't expect anything from Dean but Dean himself.

His _whole_ self, preferably...

They had been together for over a month now, and had yet to... how did they always say it? _Hit a home run_. Castiel had been ready for some time. He would have let it go all the way on New Years if Dean had wanted to move fast. Castiel was ready that fast. In fact, by the time they'd been snuggling together in the same bed for a week the former-angel was downright wanton. He was eager to learn. He was eager in general.

He'd been chaste for a million years. Now it was time for the perks of being human.

But Dean remained hesitant. And more than potential physical bliss, Castiel loved Dean. So they waited.

And waited.

And Castiel knew it was barely two months, but it felt like eons when he'd started to learn the feel of Dean's skin (what little of it he could get to) and the tease of the man's lips on his throat, and that throaty _Dean_ chuckle when Cas shivered or clutched at him in response to the smallest stimuli.

Valentine's Day was perfect timing. If Dean was waiting for the right moment, Valentine's Day would certainly be it. As far as Cas could gather, it was a holiday centered around romantic love and excitement over planned copulation.

He didn't need a fancy dinner or anything extravagant, which he gathered from the tv, was very common. A wooing mechanism he supposed. But Dean didn't need to woo him any further. What he wanted, _all_ he wanted, was to have Dean to himself in every possible way.

He was ready.

And now that he had a deadline in clear view, he was very excited.

* * *

><p>The Wednesday night before Valentine's Day was a jittery one for Castiel. It was the eve of a very important day.<p>

Sam and Bobby had taken off suddenly Wednesday morning to go on a supplies run a couple of states over and wouldn't be back for a few days. Castiel couldn't believe his luck, he couldn't believe how well that had worked out. Although, when Sam made the announcement abruptly Wednesday morning with a mischievous smile on his lips, Dean scowled at his brother and Bobby blatantly, his cheeks blushing.

Cas figured Dean was jealous not to go along. Although there was something in Sam's smirk and the unusual wink he gave Dean when they said goodbye that made Castiel think he'd missed something...

But he didn't dwell on it long - it didn't matter. Everything was perfect. Tomorrow morning he and Dean would wake up together, warm and entangled, and thankfully _alone_, and Castiel would initiate sex. He would seduce Dean - easily, he imagined - and they could spend all day together.

Having sex.

_Sexing_, he wondered if you could call it.

It was a good plan, Castiel though as he settled down into their bed. It would be perfect.

* * *

><p>It was a little after dawn, clean morning sunlight peeking in through the curtains in the spare bedroom Cas and Dean were shamelessly sharing at this point. Cas had woken warm and comfortable and rolled over to see the sunlight sparkling off of Dean's short blondish hair, the sun making his freckled skin glow. Castiel could see the usually invisible blond hairs on Dean's arms by way of the early morning sun, and his eyes scanned Dean's forearm and shoulder and back up to his scarred, gorgeous fingers. He examined the man's face as he slept, the planes and curves relaxed and tension free. His dark brown eyelashes. His smattering of near-orange freckles, keeping his face almost amusingly youthful even after everything he'd been through. The swell of his lips, pink and slightly parted...<p>

He was beautiful. There wasn't any denying it and there was no simpler way to put it. Dean Winchester was one of God's most beautiful creations if Castiel did say so himself. He sent a quiet _Thank You_ heavenwards.

And then he remembered his plan, and he smiled, biting his lip.

Castiel moved smoothly over to Dean, who was lying on his stomach, head turned towards Castiel. He leaned over Dean's naked back and kissed lightly up his skin, lavishing every inch with innocent kisses, spending extra attention up the line of his his spine, until he felt Dean stir.

Dean made a quiet happy sound before peeking over his shoulder at Castiel and smiling, "Morning Cas."

Cas smiled back, returning to his work, making his way up Dean's back, over his shoulders and neck, until he reached his lips, where he kissed him with unbridled affection.

It didn't take more than a few minutes of those kisses for Dean to decide he needed to pay Cas back for the pleasant wake-up. He rolled Cas onto his back, settling above him, and took up with an activity he knew Cas couldn't get enough of - teasing the man's neck with his lips and tongue.

Castiel's heart pounded in his chest, even harder than it usually did when Dean was kissing down his Adam's apple -

His plan was working.

He couldn't wait for the sexing... for how he would be completely _together_ with Dean by all human standards once and for all. And it would be on _his_ day.

_Perfect_.

Castiel wondered if Dean knew that Thursday was a special day. He had after all been the Angel of Thursday, so every Thursday held a little potential for magic for him, human or not.

He doubted Dean knew that.

And he doubted he should be thinking about that right now, with Dean's lips at his throat, especially when Dean stopped and looked at Cas harshly.

"Distracted?" he demanded none too subtly.

Castiel hadn't made one single delicious noise in all the time Dean was working away down there, on his neck and clavicle. Usually he couldn't get Cas to shut up. Trying to be quiet when Bobby and Sam were only downstairs or worse, right down the hall, was pretty much impossible. But not a peep on this morning. So Dean had ventured to look, and now he saw Cas grinning absently to himself, as if he remembered something funny and didn't even realize Dean was there. Dean would be lying if he said his masculinity and notable skills weren't a tad offended.

"A bit," Cas admitted, smiling at Dean.

Dean was instantly miffed and rolled away from Castiel before the former-angel could grab him.

"Why are you stopping?" Cas grabbed at Dean to pull him back, his smile still in place. Cas' hands were firm on Dean's body, pulling and begging him to come back.

Dean had learned that Cas could be very greedy with human touch. It was something Dean liked and thought maybe he understood. Castiel had been deprived so long, and now he was feeling all of these things for the first time. When Cas wanted it, Dean gave it freely, until Cas only wanted more, more, more. It was heady and it revved Dean's engine like nothing else.

But he simply couldn't concede right now, on principle. "Oh, what? Now I get your full attention? Sorry buddy. These lips won't be ignored."

Castiel leaned over and kissed Dean quickly before the man could pull away. "Well I apologize. To you," he kissed Dean's forehead, "and to your lips." He kissed Dean's lips repeatedly with shallow little pecks. Aiming to lighten Dean's mood.

It worked. Dean smiled into the kisses, trying to catch Cas' lips so that he might pull Cas into a deeper one.

They both enjoyed these moments, the little games. They wanted simple silliness every once and awhile and Dean liked that Cas was really coming into his own with physical affection. It was interesting to see him push his own limits and try new things, not being afraid to take a few simple liberties with Dean.

At this point, though, they hadn't tried too much as far as rounding the bases went... Dean had conflicted feelings about that.

Cas bit Dean's lip with a feisty nip, pulling him from his thoughts.

"_Ow_ - you little..." Dean hooked his hand behind Cas' neck and pulled him down for an invasive, nearly violent kiss. Retaliation had never been so sweet.

Suddenly Castiel rolled on top of him, straddling him and holding him down to the bed. _Surprised_ didn't begin to describe what Dean felt. They'd been together for awhile now, and despite that first kiss, Cas had never been particularly forward. He always waited for Dean to take the first step, to set the tone and to put on the breaks when they got too hot and heavy.

Dean had realized awhile back that Cas was being very careful to make sure they didn't do too much too fast, more for Dean's sake than his own. Dean appreciated it. In fact, he marveled at Cas' self-control. _Cas_ wasn't nervous at all it seemed. But he slowed his roll for Dean. Because _he_ was.

Dean had no doubt that if he decided not to stop, Cas would let him do pretty much anything. And that trust, in and of itself, was enough to scare Dean into keeping things less than x-rated.

No one had ever trusted him that implicitly, and with their own body... Dean's hands squeezed at Cas' thighs.

Cas was on top of him, in their big, warm, familiar, safe bed... essentially sitting on Dean's groin, his arousal very obvious in his pajama pants. Cas leaned up from that kiss and looked down at Dean, smirking down at him in a way that had Dean's heart pumping hard in his throat.

Castiel got like this every once and awhile - utterly and completely sensual, almost wild in his wantonness and freedom of sexuality. It had been an unexpected development to Dean, and it threw him for a delicious loop every time. He always had to remind himself Cas could be like that. It was easy to look at him and see the starched, clueless, borderline unic Angel of years past. But every once and awhile Cas became something wild - sexuality woven into every fibre of his being. Like it was in his genes.

Dean noticed a pattern to the behavior - can't shut those Hunter instincts off, even when you want to. The pattern was an odd one though. Castiel seemed to get friskiest on Thursdays.

It didn't make any sense to Dean. But then, he didn't know what Castiel knew.

Cas was most comfortable on this day. More comfortable in his human skin. He lost some inhibitions, gained some confidence, felt feral and powerful. It was damn sexy, Dean thought.

And it was clearly gonna be one of those days...

Dean was always glad to see this side of Cas - but now he felt a little rushed. Again. That familiar panic settling in his gut, mingling with the undeniable arousal.

Cas bent double to bring his lips to Dean's neck, where he returned the favors Dean was giving him earlier. Dean's hands ran up and down Cas' back and thighs and he leaned his head back to expose his throat as Cas teased him with kisses and licks and the constantly changing pressure of teeth and lips.

But when Cas started rocking against Dean, making them both hard and brainless, Dean's internal panic sounded _loudly_.

Dean wanted to be subtle about freaking out. He didn't want his next movements to scream _I can't do this yet!_.

So he flipped their positions, throwing Cas down against the mattress and getting back to assaulting his neck.

This time, Cas was doing everything right with the sounds he made, and the way he moved underneath him. If Dean didn't know better, he'd say Cas was _trying_ to push this along... Who was Dean kidding, that's exactly what Cas was doing and he knew it.

Cas fisted his hands in Dean's hair, and scraped his nails up Dean's back. He parted his legs so Dean was lying between them and reached down, grabbing two handfuls of much-appreciated Winchester ass.

Castiel's hands were all over him, and he was so worked up - it felt so good...

Castiel was winning this battle. He could feel it. Dean was giving in and Cas' heart leapt for it.

Dean pressed his hips down into Cas', grinding against him, losing himself as he gripped the man's sleep-mussed, dark hair and kissed over his chest and in response Cas made dark, delicious sounds with that voice...

Dean wanted that voice to call out his name -

and then it did, in a growling barely-there whisper. And Dean nearly lost it. He was pressing harder between Cas' legs, claiming his mouth desperately, when he felt Cas slip his hands from his ass, to the waistband of his pajama pants, pushing down -

Red flags went off all over the place. If Dean didn't stop right now, he wasn't going to be able to.

If he was being honest... he didn't really want to. This felt so right.

But no. Dean knew his track record. He'd ruin everything if they took it too fast. And this, Cas, was too good to risk ruining.

So he stopped.

He slid up and kissed Cas' lips simply, just once, and rolled off the bed.

Dean was already halfway across the room throwing on some pants when Castiel had gathered the presence of mind to open his eyes, sit up and stare at him. The image didn't quite compute. He was so sure they were going to...

"Where are you going?" he asked, still baffled, his hair sticking up and his lips swollen.

Dean had to turn away from the sight, lest he jump right back into bed and tackle the guy.

"Breakfast," Dean answered with a taut smile, throwing his shirt over his head. He winked at Castiel and walked out.

And in his wake was left an overheated, stimulated almost to the point of no return, shirtless, flushed and exasperated former angel.

Castiel fell back against the bed with a grunt. Dean had worked him up and left him disappointed. _Again_. It was getting to be too much. Castiel was proud of his patience so far, but Dean Winchester tested it thoroughly.

He needed Dean, badly, in a very biblical sense.

He'd been taking it slow because he could feel the man's utter trepidation, though he didn't understand it. But he'd truly hoped that today would be the day. Cas had woken up with Dean all around him and had been hit with this wave of affection and security that had him thrumming from the start. And Dean had woken in a playful, affectionate mood himself, thanks to Castiel's pleasing exploration.

It was going to be a perfect morning.

With both of them seeming so willing, their hardness pressing against each other, the outlook was good. Castiel wanted them to be together, in the early morning light, so comfortable and so... content. He'd wanted no time wasted on this day.

He closed his eyes and wished - _maybe later?_

However, if Dean's current disappearing act was any indication...

that wish might have to wait.

Again.

Castiel sighed heavily. For a moment he could have fallen back asleep, until -

"You better get your ass down here or I'm gonna eat your bacon!"

Cas laughed to himself, rolling out of bed with a groan.

Sex or not. This was still a pretty perfect morning.


	2. Thursday Afternoon

Valentine's Day.

Afternoon.

* * *

><p>Castiel was nothing if not persistent.<p>

He and Dean were spending the day together, as planned. Dean didn't make any mention of the holiday at hand, but he sure was affectionate. He hugged Castiel from behind every chance he got, or kissed his lips, or smiled openly at him. There was an intangible desire to be close to Castiel that the former Angel was loving. Castiel didn't mind if Dean's acknowledgement of Valentine's Day was subtle. He didn't care about all the out-loud fuss. He was just happy they were alone together on the day.

And Castiel was going to have his man, as planned. The only thing that had changed was the distinction from early morning pleasure to afternoon delight.

He could still make this happen.

They'd been so happy all morning - Dean took Cas shooting, happy to see that now that they'd been practicing, Cas was even better than Sam and Bobby with a long-range rifle. Dean wasn't quite up to admitting yet that Cas might even be better than him.

Cas seemed to take pride in precision and accuracy, and had a knack for sneaking up on those poor cans on the fence, a silent, graceful killer. It seemed logical to both men that Cas might be good at this - he was a warrior after all. And if Dean did say so himself, it was damn sexy watching Cas re-load a semi-automatic weapon with a great deal of competence.

Then Dean had taken Cas back to the salvage yard to re-learn all of the things about engines they were _supposed_ to be solidifying in Cas' brain yesterday. Unfortunately they'd gotten sidetracked when their faces got stuck to each other for a good hour and a half. They'd left greased handprints pretty much everywhere.

Now Cas was leaned under the hood of an old Pontiac trying to memorize all of the things Dean seemed to just know by heart.

Shooting cans from hundreds of feet away - no problem. Discerning between this part and that in an automobile - not as easy as Dean made it look.

It made Cas long for the days when his aptitude was nothing to sneeze at. He didn't need to actively memorize, because his brain was powered by Heaven and once learned, information was filed immediately and permanently. It was hard to go from that, to humanity.

But Castiel didn't mind hearing about the cars. Much of his and Dean's relationship was about learning. He hoped it always would be.

When it was time for lunch they headed inside and Dean started in the kitchen while Cas gave himself a pep-talk in the bathroom mirror.

He told himself it was a perfect time, they both wanted it, go out there and try again.

Dean was at the stove, making lunch for himself and Cas. Sam and Bobby were still a couple states over making their supernatural supplies run. Bobby's well-kept pantry was starting to run low, and that could be dangerous in a pinch. Or that's what Sam had claimed, of a sudden, when he told Dean they'd be taking off.

The trip afforded Dean the chance to play house with Cas. And he had to say, he was loving it.

They'd had a close call this morning, Dean had almost given in. But now everything was perfect again.

He was staring into the frying pan, just zoning out, when he felt arms smoothly wind around his waist. He smiled. Cas leaned against his back, holding Dean tightly to him, and kissed Dean's cheek when he turned to catch a glimpse of Castiel.

Cas nuzzled into Dean's shoulder and pressed his hips tighter to Dean's body. Dean didn't react.

Castiel ran the flat of his tongue in a slow, hot line up the exact middle of the back of Dean's neck. He knew from previous experience that leaving little kisses there made Dean squirm, so he took it that much further. He felt Dean freeze, his breath drawing in with a harsh rattle. Cas could feel by the way Dean's body tensed that he was getting somewhere. He left a little bite at the nape of Dean's neck and the man stifled a sound of encouragement, but Cas heard it anyway. He slid his tongue up the back of Dean's neck once more, even more slowly, and he felt Dean shiver all the way through it.

His hands started to slide up and down Dean's front, slowly, more comforting than directly sexual. But Dean was swaying back into Castiel despite himself, and the way Cas' tongue played at the nape of Dean's neck left no doubt as to the motivation of the touch.

"Stop, Cas - I'll burn the food," there was a tense smile in his voice.

"Leave the food." His hand slid downward -

"_Stop_, Cas," and Dean pulled away. His tone was serious, even if his tense smile remained.

Cas backed off.

He wasn't going anywhere with Dean right now, that he could see. But Cas knew Dean well enough to know now wasn't the moment to ask _why_. He wasn't angry per se, but there was a certain frustration buzzing in the man that was tipping the scales in that direction.

While Dean put the food onto two plates Castiel sat down, dispensing two napkins, hiding his disappointment. Dean came over sliding the plates onto the table and leaning down to give Cas a simple, sweet kiss on the lips. It was a _sorry_ of sorts, to smooth over how abrupt he tended to be at spurning Cas' advances.

Cas smiled at him and the two ate lunch, awkwardness forgotten at least for the moment.

. . . . .

It was a comfortable peace, but it didn't last long.

Castiel was confused by the mixed messaged. Dean seemed to want very much to have sex with him, and yet every time they got close he pulled away. Castiel remembered something Dean had said a few weeks ago, when he was pretending to be frustrated over Castiel pretending he didn't want Dean to touch him. Dean had said he was playing _hard to get_. Maybe Dean was doing the same?

They were sitting on the couch, Dean flipping channels restlessly, Castiel nuzzled against his chest, his arms wrapped around Dean's waist and Dean's arm draped over Cas' shoulder. Cas nuzzled his body against Dean's, rubbing his face into his t-shirted chest, running his palm down Dean's side, sliding his thigh over Dean's. And, naturally, brushing his groin against Dean's hip.

Dean remained still, not taking the bait.

Cas slipped his hand up under Dean's shirt, skimming over the warm, taut skin he was so addicted to. He carefully pulled the shirt up, exposing Dean's naked skin, and he nuzzled his face into that instead. He pressed open mouth kisses to the hot skin, getting hotter by the second despite Dean's feigned disinterest.

Castiel dealt little lovebites to Dean's chest and ribs, knowing that he liked that, and Dean's hand slid into Cas' hair despite himself. Cas smoothly sank down, between Dean's legs, kissing down Dean's torso as he went.

Dean watched, unable to look away as Cas slid, so ridiculously lithe, down his body settling between his thighs and gripping them tight as he worked his way down, down...

Castiel's kisses reached the top of Dean's jeans, and there was nowhere else left to go... he pressed his face to Dean's denim-laden groin and Dean nearly exploded at the sight. That little bit of pressure was doing a lot for his already piquing arousal, so when Castiel left a kiss on his fly, Dean nearly lost it right there.

Cas slid his hands to the waistband of Dean's jeans, slipping a couple fingers under and enjoying the resulting shiver from Dean. He moved to the button and undid it, without Dean stopping him. Then the zipper was pulled down, without Dean stopping him. And Castiel tongued from Dean's naval down to the waistband of his underwear, loving the progressively more desperate rise and fall of the man's abdomen as his breathing became harsh and unsteady. Castiel left an open-mouthed kiss on Dean's underwear, feeling him straining beneath that thin fabric. He flicked his eyes up to Dean's a moment, before moving to reach into his briefs -

"Wait - stop, stop-" Dean pulled Castiel's hand away by the wrist. But Cas didn't miss a beat. He simply pressed his lips to the flesh at the underside of Dean's wrist and forearm, kissing and licking. And he turned his eyes to Dean in a debilitating stare. It was a look that screamed, "Trust me."

But it wasn't Cas that Dean didn't trust.

When Cas went to put his face to Dean's skin again Dean reached down, grabbing him under the chin so as to tilt his face away. But still Cas was undeterred. He slid up Dean's body, being absolutely sure no part of either of their bodies missed out on that touch, and Dean bit back a groan. Cas kissed Dean's neck and then his lips, never being still, always giving a little bit of friction between them on Dean's stomach and groin and chest.

"It's ok," Cas whispered in Dean's ear, sucking the lobe and sneaking a hand down between them. He cupped Dean with a hot hand, and the man couldn't help but make a little sound of relief before immediately tensing up.

"Get off," Dean demanded in a panicked whisper.

"I'm trying," Castiel joked, misreading the desperation in Dean's voice, thinking he could diffuse his nerves with a joke as he sometimes could.

But Dean remained tense, "Very funny. Now stop."

"Why?" he asked honestly, with a smooth rub of his palm against Dean.

Dean moaned and relaxed for a split-second before he suddenly pushed Castiel away a little too roughly - Castiel fell abruptly back against the couch, his face flushed, eyes wide. Dean hastily zipped and buttoned himself, looking livid.

Castiel sat frozen where he fell, staring at Dean, not sure what he should do, or how badly he'd messed up. He was a little afraid to move.

Dean wouldn't look at him.

Cas felt small. Unwanted. He had never been so embarrassed. He'd never been so forward, only to be rejected. His face burned even hotter now than it had before.

Dean felt like he didn't know what the Hell was happening inside himself. He wanted it so bad, why couldn't he just give in...?

They sat, silently, staring forward.

Castiel couldn't take the silence for more than five minutes. He thought, maybe with more information, he could be better at this. Maybe he'd done it wrong... it didn't feel like it... But what did he know? Yes, more information would be helpful. And then Dean wouldn't be so mad.

"I'm confused. I'm fairly certain that you want me sexually..."

Dean rolled his eyes and his posture went very rigid, very closed off. But Castiel was too eager to solve this problem to bother reading the obvious bodily signs that Dean absolutely did _not_ want to talk. "Why don't you want to have sex with me?" Cas asked, not accusing but genuinely curious.

Of course, Dean heard accusation in everything when he was nervous. And Cas' frank tone always cut him down to the bone, either making him uncomfortable or making him laugh or just pissing him off.

This time it pissed him off.

"I do, Cas. I've already told you that." The words were nice enough. Of course there was nothing affectionate or reaffirming or sexy in his tone, and the contradiction only confused Castiel further.

"Then... how come we don't? Is it, is it me?"

"Oh my God, Cas, _please_." The sheer irritation in Dean's voice had Cas cringing. He didn't look at Cas, but his tone was very direct, "Don't go getting all whiny on me."

Cas thought maybe Dean was nervous that Castiel was ignorant of the importance of the step they were taking. He aimed to diffuse that worry, "Dean, if you have concerns about taking my virginity, I assure you you have my permission -"

"_Cas!_" Dean cut him off sharply, his voice undeniably terrifying, and Cas flinched at the outburst.

Dean didn't miss it.

Now he felt even more like an asshole.

"Look," he started, his tone still as harsh as before, "we're getting there, ok? Just... give me some time. I don't know how many friggin' times I have to say it."

Cas' voice was small, wary, "If you could just tell me why you're so afraid-"

Keywords to never use when Dean Winchester is tipping over the edge of anger - weak, stupid, _afraid_.

Dean turned on Castiel and the former-angel could see immediately he'd said the wrong thing. But not having the conversational savvy to backtrack, all he could do was sit there with his throat closed and his eyes wide as Dean leveled him with a stare.

"I didn't say anything about being _afraid_. If anyone's afraid it sure as Hell isn't me. At least I know what I'm doing."

He regretted it as soon as it left his mouth, but he was too stubborn, too proud to break and take it back. He could see on Cas' face, that he'd knocked him down a peg there. Dean didn't want Cas to feel ignorant and judged, but when he said things like that to him... what was the poor guy supposed to think?

Castiel blushed, looking down at the couch cushion. Dean was right. Maybe he was more ignorant than he thought. Castiel internally reprimanded himself. He'd been too eager, Dean had said no. He should have known to stop if that's what Dean wanted. It was clear now that he could make amends by giving Dean the time he asked for.

But Castiel, poor, literal thing that he was, always thought it best to get all the details. "May I enquire how much time you estimate you will need, that I may prepare myself adequately?" Cas used his most diplomatic tone, and Dean immediately recognized it from all the other times in the past year that he'd yelled at Cas for no good reason. That year of anger and sniping, bone-deep remarks before Dean had smartened up and realized Cas had suffered enough, and that he loved him too much to hurt him. The former angel had always tried to overcompensate for Dean's anger then (as well as for low opinion of himself, as a disappointment) by being perfectly unoffensive. It broke Dean's heart that he might've scared Cas into making him feel like this moment right now was somehow his fault.

Ever since they started this affair Dean had tried to be good about knocking it off with the demeaning, nasty tone he used to unleash on Cas back when all he could manage without having a meltdown was anger.

It seemed like Cas was finally getting used to the harsh words being gone and was back to looking at Dean like he used to - like Dean was a hero, like he wasn't afraid Dean would yell at him or berate simply for existing.

Maybe Dean's anger had been justified back then, when his wounds were still fresh from Cas' whole _I'm God and I'll kill you if I feel like it_ thing. But still... it didn't stop Dean feeling like a jerk in the aftermath. Especially now.

What were they even arguing about here? Sex? Dean's favorite pass-time... Something that, according to Dean's life and philosophy, shouldn't be over-thought but simply enjoyed. Thoroughly.

Suddenly all his hesitation seemed ridiculous. He was breaking his number one rule - he was over thinking the most basic thing between two people.

He knew it was only because he was terrified of getting attached to someone who would die or decide they didn't love him anymore or forget entirely that he existed. And he wanted this to be different. For once in his life, he wanted it to count.

Dean had had plenty of sex.

Dean even thought he may have made love once or twice... kind of.

But he knew already that whatever he had with Cas would be... different. It would be like everything else about them - intense, _no place to hide_ kind of personal, soul crushingly deep...

Dean didn't know if he could be that vulnerable. Could he show that much of himself to another living person?

Dean had always tried to believe that the times that he would have sex with random women was when he lived his life with the most abandon, that those times were examples of when he was most purely and uninhibitedly himself. But now he knew that the Dean Winchester who would cruise the bars and bring home women to pleasure was as much of a persona as anything - more so, in fact.

He'd never let a single one of those women get anywhere close to him. Not how it counted. Cas would be the first.

So try as he might to keep things light and naughty and just have fun with it, this would be important. It would be special and he couldn't handle it, all the significance.

Dean, for all his charisma and all his boasts, was nervous.

Christmas Eve had been perfect. Their current relationship, was perfect. (Not right now, obviously...) What if he ruined everything with sex? What if it was too human and too dirty for Castiel and he decided after the fact that he didn't want Dean, so previously _used_, sullying him? What if... what if Dean couldn't give him all he wanted? He'd never been with a guy, what if it showed?

What if the sweating and writhing and cum made their relationship lowly, instead of magical?

Because there was something intangibly magical about the way they were right now. It was special and perfect and Dean knew from experience that he would screw it up. So why change anything? Why not keep it exactly the same as long as he could to keep that magic going...

He looked up from his reverie to see Castiel, dutifully still right there, watching him so carefully, studying him in that way he did. If he hadn't been sitting already that look would have knocked Dean on his ass - he'd been so in his own thoughts, that he'd forgotten they were in the middle of something.

Castiel seemed to sense his panic.

"Not to worry," he said politely, turning his eyes to the floor. "I can be more patient. I apologize."

He kissed Dean briefly, nervously, as if he was afraid Dean would throw him away. The way he'd leaned in without making eye contact, touched their lips quickly, then immediately retracted, made Dean feel horrible - awful to his core.

Castiel smoothly got up off the couch and walked away, his eyes still downturned.

And Dean felt guilty. Because for all the diplomacy Cas could muster, he couldn't hide from Dean the utter and complete dejection he felt. Dean could literally feel the guy's heart break from across the room.

Regret struck him like shovel to the noggin.

He was _hurting_ Cas, and he didn't mean to, but poor Cas was still hurt just the same. And what was worse was that Cas didn't even know _why_, because Dean couldn't manage the words to explain it to him.

Taking it slow was having the opposite effect Dean had intended.

. . .

As Castiel walked away from Dean he felt something rising in his chest, making his eyes hot and his lips pull down into a frown.

So much for his perfect Valentine's Thursday.


	3. Thursday Night

**As fluffy as I can manage at the moment without spontaneously combusting into a _poof!_ of downy feathers and daisy petals.**

**and rainbow clown-glitter... :)**

* * *

><p>Valentine's Day.<p>

Night.

Dean had hurt Castiel. It was plain to see. For the rest of the day Dean was trying to measure just how badly he'd screwed up.

Cas would barely meet Dean's eyes, and when he did, he smiled politely for Dean's benefit but it never reached his eyes. He was quiet and reserved, not saying anything except if Dean should say something first, and he didn't touch Dean once for the rest of the day. He looked like he was going to once, out of habit and proximity, but he thought better of it at the last moment and pulled his hand back.

Dean was sad for it. Cas wasn't comfortable anymore.

Castiel did well at pretending he was fine, but Dean could _feel_ the confusion and heartache rolling off of him. And it was killing Dean - all he'd wanted was to stave off the inevitable doom of a good thing. And all he'd done was to expedite the very thing he was trying to stop.

Seeing Cas in such obvious pain but still trying to keep him happy, convinced Dean once and for all that he had to explain himself. Once he was done feeling sorry for himself the voice in his head told him to get over himself and sack up! Quitting fretting like a little bitch! He hardly deserved Cas to begin with, so he had to go to every length he could reach to make things right.

He had to give Castiel an explanation for turning a perfect day into a ruined one.

Dean told Cas he was going out and that he'd be back in a few hours, he jumped into the Impala and drove towards what would hopefully be a good idea.

The day wasn't over yet.

* * *

><p>Dean had been gone for hours. Castiel had cried a little despite himself when Dean took off. Although he had no intentions of letting anyone know that, ever. He tried not to do that, <em>cry<em>. At all. He was strong. But Dean wasn't the only one with abandonment issues. It wouldn't be surprising to Castiel if Dean went out for a gallon of milk and never came back. But he tried not to think like that.

Then he'd fallen asleep halfway through an attempt at reading, on the couch where they'd kissed and slept and most recently, fought. When he woke up it was dusk, the house was dim and quiet and it felt so big and empty. Lonely. He got off the couch stiffly, stretching the tensing events of earlier out of his muscles.

Castiel climbed the stairs, came into the bedroom and flipped the light switch absently, pausing when the light didn't come on. He looked around the room warily, to see it was dimly lit, a few of the tall candles they used for rituals standing over on the the window seat, lit and flickering softly. There was scattered red petals all over the bedroom, on the bed and in a circle around it.

Little ovular, red, flower petals...

It was very odd, Castiel thought. And yet, still sort of pretty against the faded white of the quilt, and the worn hardwood floor.

He could only assume this was Dean's handiwork and he wondered why Dean might have done such a bizarre thing, and in such a messy yet obviously organized nature. The dim light and flowered path to the bed made Castiel yearn almost sadly for Dean, for a time when they might lay together there, bare and entirely comfortable with each other.

His longing was interrupted when he heard Dean's voice, quiet and strangely tentative, "Hey..."

Castiel's looked past the bed where his eyes were met with the sight of Dean Winchester, freshly showered, clean shaven, in fairly well-kept clean clothes and looking horribly nervous.

Cas, still feeling the sting of earlier, used examining the room as an excuse to look away from his eyes. "Are you performing some kind of ritual?"

Dean laughed a little, "Yeah, kind of."

"You didn't tell me," Castiel sounded hurt even through the mask of nonchalance.

"It was kind of a surprise," Dean offered, still quiet.

"Surprise?"

"Yeah..." Dean looked around the room nervously, "for you."

Castiel immediately thought the worst. Was it an angelic summoning of some kind? Was Dean going to try to send Castiel away? Had Castiel's display earlier been the last straw and now Dean was taking matters into his own hands?

Dean noticed Castiel's eyes go wide and frightened. He rushed over to him, kissing him innocently and sincerely. He pulled away and Castiel's eyes were questioning.

Dean cleared his throat nervously, looking away from those blue eyes, "I'm not really a romantic kind of guy, but I've seen a lot of tv and... well... I wanted it to be nice... for you. So I guess this is me trying to be _romantic_ or whatever..."

Castiel only tilted his head, his expression unreadable as he observed Dean carefully.

Dean stumbled on, "This is like, _way_ out of my comfort zone, but uh... I figured I owe you an apology. A big one. So..." he motioned around the room.

Castiel's unreadable expression persisted.

Dean decided to just spit it out, he owed Cas that much. "What happened earlier, that was my fault. I've been a dick to you, and... I'm sorry."

Castiel's eyes softened a bit at this.

"The truth is... the truth is I was kind of gun-shy about this because... Jesus, this is so stupid! I uh... you're different, than everyone else I've been with."

Castiel looked concerned, his brow furrowing, and Dean was quick to cut him off, "No, I mean... it's different, because of what we are - I mean, _how_ we are. Together. It's not my typical thing, because... because... Well, I... I love you Cas. I think... I think you're it, for me."

Castiel's eyebrows rose and he stared at Dean for a long (and for Dean, heart-stopping) moment. And then, gloriously, he broke into a smile. And Dean could breathe again.

"Whew," he joked with a breathless laugh, "that was close..."

Castiel didn't know what that meant, but it didn't matter. He pulled Dean in for a kiss. When they parted, they both laughed a little, feeling as though the heavy tension of the moment was finally broken.

Making love wasn't the only thing they hadn't done yet. Since they'd been together they'd never said _I love you_. It was implied, and obvious to both of them. Even that first night - _Merry Christmas_ had really meant _I love you_. That had said it, without saying it. _Happy New Year_, was _I love you_. _Good morning Cas_, had been _I love you_. Dean knew it. Castiel knew it. But there was nothing quite like saying it without any masking.

Castiel hadn't expected that. It made his eyes sting, and he smiled as he fought that off. He cleared his throat, looking down at the floor, seeing again the scattered petals at his feet.

"Dean," Castiel said suddenly, peering around the room again nervously, "what is the ritual?"

"What ritual? _Ohhh_," Dean laughed self-consciously. "It's not, really. It's just a human thing... It's... uh... This is me... seducing you." Dean's cheeks were flushed red as he gave a self-depricating laugh, and Castiel couldn't help but smirk, curious about how the Hell this was supposed to be enticing him sexually.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, "I'm feeling like a friggin' moron that I had to say that _out loud_. I'm clearly not doing it right..."

Castiel's head quirked to the side, "You certainly don't need magic to seduce me Dean," he said in that dark, low _Castiel_ warning-voice.

"No, it's - this isn't witchcraft. It's..." he rolled his eyes, hating himself, "...romance."

Castiel's face was blank for a moment, then he smiled again, wide and uninhibited. Dean thought maybe the whole, lighting candles and buying flowers thing was worth it just for that smile.

"I actually only just realized how similar the two are," he joked nervously. "Like I said, I don't really do this. So I'm not sure if this is right... Candles and flowers and all that. It's supposed to be like that for normal people, right? When they, _you know_, for the first time. With someone they actually..."

And _that_ insinuation, Castiel definitely did _not_ miss.

Castiel's eyes snapped to Dean's and Dean realized _finally_ they were on the same page. Castiel took a long, careful look around the room, inspecting Dean's handiwork, and Dean felt the pressure of the scrutiny.

"It's stupid right?" Dean wavered, embarrassed. Castiel didn't answer, he only smiled as he looked over at the decorated bed. "It's stupid," Dean confirmed for himself. "Look, just - don't judge me based on this, ok? I'm a little out of my depth and I took a chance. A weirdly sappy, stupidly girly chance. Here -" in his panic of self-doubt he went to swipe his arm over the bed and clear away all of the flower petals. But the action was stopped when Castiel grabbed his arm before he could displace a single petal.

Castiel walked to the mattress' edge. "What is the purpose of the plants all over the bed?" Castiel asked, feigning a little more ignorance than he possessed. He tilted his head at the red petals Dean had mocked himself severely for tossing in painstakingly strategic splotches all over the bedroom. He liked watching Dean squirm.

Castiel picked up a petal between his index finger and thumb, "Flower petals," he noted to himself, inspecting it with great interest.

"_Rose_ petals..." Dean muttered correctively, kicking himself for this entire idea. He could have just as easily not done this. Cas didn't know what it all meant anyway...

"Roses are romantic," Cas more stated than asked, to clarify his understanding of human romantic culture.

"S'posed to be. Yeah."

Cas smiled widely, looking down at the bed. "And you've laid them everywhere. You've dressed our quarters with their petals."

"Way to kill the subtlety, Cas," Dean muttered, obviously embarrassed.

But it didn't stop Cas' smile, and noticing that made Dean's heart flutter. Castiel felt the petal between his fingertips before bringing it to his lips. "Soft..." he noted quietly. He turned his blue eyes to Dean's, "They're very beautiful."

Dean shrugged.

"You are quite romantic, Dean," Castiel only half-teased.

"Ugh, _God_-"

"I mean to say," he cut him off, "...thank you." He could swear that Dean blushed. "You wanted it to be nice..." Castiel echoed Dean's earlier confession. "_It_...?" he contemplated. "You're going to make love to me Dean?"

The utter longing, innocence and excitement of Cas' voice nearly knocked Dean off his game. _Nearly_. But not completely. He stepped in close to Castiel, wrapping his arms around the former angel and kissing him in the deepest, most loving and sensual way he knew how. And Cas melted into him, holding onto him desperately and nearly going lax in his arms.

They kissed until they were in a frenzy of lips and passion, then Dean pulled away -

"And if you _ever_ tell _anyone_ about this-"

Cas smiled widely, chuckling at the sheer sincerity of Dean's voice, before pulling him back down to his lips.

No, he wouldn't be sharing this.

This was just for them.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy Valentine's Day!<strong>


	4. Friday

_And because I can't leave well enough alone..._

* * *

><p><strong>Friday.<strong>

Castiel would say that it was pleasant to wake up beside Dean the next morning, but they hadn't really been asleep yet. They'd both passed out for a little while in the wee hours of the morning but had woken up for round... well, Castiel had forgotten how many rounds they'd had at that point.

Castiel rolled out of bed with the sheet around his waist, and wandered over to the window seat, picking up one of the rose petals that had escaped the long-burning candles' dripping wax and pressed the soft petal to his lips. He stood, staring out the window at the North Dakota landscape.

Dean rolled out of bed after him, not nearly as modest, and stood behind Castiel, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Whatcha doin'?" he drawled into Castiel's neck.

"Wanted to watch the sun rise."

"Mm," Dean rested his chin on Cas' shoulder, fighting the urge to mock his lover's sappy, romantic desire to gaze at the sunrise. Because in that moment, watching the sun rise actually seemed like a kind of nice idea to Dean too.

They were quiet a long time, standing there together, watching as the sluggish sun peeked up over the mountains and shone in pinks and oranges through the trees.

A perfect sight. Beautiful.

"Reminds me of Christmas," Dean whispered, as if speaking at full volume might ruin the moment.

Castiel smiled. He'd been thinking the same thing.

He turned in Dean's arms and kissed him. The kiss turned deep and passionate until Castiel chuckled against Dean's lips. Dean gave him a questioning smile and Castiel looked down between their bodies obviously, quirking an eyebrow at Dean's hard length burning between them, already throbbing.

Dean shrugged with a lazy grin and pulled Castiel back to the bed by the sheet around his waist.

They had foregone the foreplay at this point, knowing they'd gone for far too long already to even bother trying to play games and hold off on the gratification they were both desperate for, and addicted to. They'd burnt off all of their patience and skillful teasing and sincerity in the first few rounds, having explored each other's bodies and left their marks - slow and drawn out.

They didn't have any of that left in them at this point. What they had now was a raucous, fun, race to the finish lacking in finesse. But that made it all the better because they were entirely, completely comfortable with each other.

Dean pulled Castiel toward the bed and flopped down onto it, his smile pure delicious sin as he pulled Castiel down on top of him by the sheet around his waist, leaving no room for confusion over what he wanted. Castiel crawled on top of him with a smile to match, besides, he liked to control the pace - it made Dean crazy - and he liked to look down at Dean and see him fall apart.

Only twenty minutes later they lay on the bed, all of the sheets and blankets having been thrown aside in their raucous activity. Castiel lay heavy, entirely spent, across Dean's chest, and Dean liked that Cas wasn't worried about how heavy he was against his body. Dean liked the weight of him. Even if it did cause his heaving chest to work a little harder.

Dean's hands were still tracing lines up and down Castiel's back, gripping at his ass when they slid smoothly over the cheeks. Castiel's little _hmm_'s seemed to denote that he appreciated it. Dean's fingers also ran smoothly down the outsides of Castiel's thighs, his legs resting strengthless on either side of Dean's hips. Castiel had his face buried in Dean's neck and hair, his lips brushing lightly behind Dean's ear.

"I hope Bobby and Sam get a flat tire." Castiel said too sincerely for Dean not to be amused. He laughed out loud and Castiel smiled against his skin. It was nice to hear Dean laugh, even if that statement had in fact been entirely serious.

"That's not very nice of you, former-_Angel_."

"Yes well, I suppose I'm a selfish human now. I want to have you alone."

"Fine by me."

Dean ran calloused fingertips down the valley of Cas' spine and Cas shivered. "We will still do this when they return?" Castiel asked, leaning up to give Dean a dangerously demanding stare.

"Can you trouble yourself to quiet down?" Dean teased.

"I'm hardly as loud as you," Cas deadpanned.

"Yeah right!" Dean bit his bottom lip and Castiel payed attention, knowing that meant something intriguing was coming next. "Remember when your 'true voice' was blowing out windows and cracking mirrors, exploding televisions?" Dean smirked.

"That was Angelic, and your frail human sensibilities couldn't handle me," Cas tit-for-tatted.

"Yeah well, after last night I'm not convinced the Angelic power is all gone. Talk about overwhelming volume..." Dean shook his head, feigning disbelief.

"I'm sure you could handle it. Or perhaps I've overestimated your strength. Perhaps I should, tone it down."

"You wouldn't," Dean asked suddenly, letting his true colors show.

"No, I wouldn't," Cas kissed Dean wantonly, all open mouths and tongues. Cas pulled up all of a sudden, stating as if remembering that he'd never given a straight answer, "I do feel bad for your brother and Bobby though. I will contain myself. You should too."

"Yeah, yeah..." Dean pulled Cas back down to his lips.

After awhile they finally fell asleep, too exhausted even to lift an arm or bother to detangle from each other.

Several hours later when Castiel awoke with Dean's arm heavy on his waist, his skin against Castiel's own at every point of tangled contact, Castiel smiled, sighing in contentment. There was a dark mark bruising at Dean's pulse point, and a few trailing downward toward his chest. His hair was mussed and sticking to his forehead and up against the pillow. Castiel was pleased to decide that Dean looked thoroughly debauched. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the man sigh and pull closer in his sleep.

Of everything he'd considered perfect in the past, Castiel thought this moment might rank above them all. Because today wasn't a Holiday. Today wasn't socially significant in some way that aided them coming together. Today was just... Friday. It was proof, that any old regular day, could be perfect. It was proof, that it didn't need to be an important date on the calendar, to be perfect for he and Dean. It meant that this wasn't so out of the ordinary, that they couldn't have it every day.

But that's what made it so special. Castiel and Dean could have a million _regular_ days after this. Mistletoe and rose petals no longer necessary.

And the idea of that, to Castiel, was truly perfect.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Now<em> Happy Ever After.**


End file.
